Belonging: A Culture of Place (12 page)

To be able to return to my native place, to live and work in a small town in Kentucky that was progressive was for me a miracle. Sadly during the years where racist aggression led to a shift in the progressive anti-racist public policy of the town, many black residents left. Even though the vision of interracial community is still alive and flourishing in Berea, there is not a large population of adult black people. The college draws younger black people but the town does not have enough work opportunities to attract many people of color newcomers. Berea is still a small town. Many of the older white and black residents (though fewer in number) remember the way life was “back in the day” when all neighborhoods in the town were racially integrated. Today the town is predominately white. Even so, the black presence is visible in the downtown. And it certainly affirms me to see other folks of my same color. Since the presence of one black person alone does not fully integrate or change the white supremacist norm, it is important that everyone in our community choose anti-racism. Fortunately a significant number of the white residents in Berea remain committed to anti-racism in daily life. This does not mean that the college and the town are doing all that can be done to realize anew the vision of interracial living, of beloved community. It does mean that the foundation for such community is in place.

Given Berea’s history I felt none of the anxiety engendered by awareness of racial discrimination that I had felt in New York and California. Certainly, had I been looking for housing in most places in Kentucky I would have maintained critical vigilance about the continued practice of racial discrimination in real estate. Given all the arenas of life in our nation that have become racially integrated, the workplace, stores, clubs, restaurants etc., places where helpful laws make discrimination difficult housing remains one of the location where it is practically impossible to “prove” discrimination is taking place and where the politics of white supremacy, racial exclusion, and segregation remain more a norm. And that is especially true in places where gated communities, condo associations, and co-opts have the right to interview candidates and turn them down for a multiple of reasons

As a single black woman looking to purchase housing in New York City, supposedly one of the more progressive places in our nation, I would be told confidentially that it was not that different boards did not approve of me but that they were concerned about the people who might come to visit me (i.e., black males). In one case I was told to say nothing about my black male partner when being interviewed. When I explained that I could not do this because it would not be fair to him to place him in a circumstance where he would be continually regarded with suspicion and hostility. I found it highly ironic that I confronted racial discrimination in New York City, decades after civil rights movement. In this amazing city of diversity the fierce racial stereotyping and racial segregation that had led me to leave Kentucky was alive and well and thriving.

The conditions of racial discrimination that I had found so unjust in my growing up years are fast becoming the norm everywhere in our nation. No wonder then that I felt especially lucky to find a small town in Kentucky where I did not need to fear that I would encounter racial separatism when looking for housing. Prophetically, John Fee’s understanding that actively resisting the formation of segregated neighborhoods, making it rewarding for folks to choose integration, would lead to an end to racism in housing has proved true. No doubt he would be dismayed to see the way in which the development of new overpriced sub-divisions is leading to the very racial segregation and exclusivity that he and likeminded allies worked so hard to change.

Although I live in a predominately white neighborhood in Berea, as the town is not as racially integrated as the college, I am never afraid. While I do not know most of my neighbors intimately, it matters to me that many of the white folks who surround me are committed to ending racism. And when it comes to housing, they show that commitment by their refusal to discriminate or segregate. The folks I love, who are white, are as passionate about challenging dominator culture and ending racism as I am. They are open to being challenged. This is especially true of radical friends, gay and straight, who live outside the town, in the hills. When I question them about why they accept living on acres of land surrounded only by other white people, some of whom are white supremacists, they do give any meaningful response. They do not follow the path paved by John Fee and decide that they might need to sale or give and acre of land to people of color as a radical contestation of white supremacy. Over the years as I have bought and sold property, I have seen that irrespective of their political stance, whether to the right or the left, when it comes to the issue of land and home ownership most folks are conservative, most folks are not willing to make of their lives and their lifestyles a living practice that challenges racism.

In an effort to ensure that my life practices offer an alternative vision, one that daily challenges discrimination in housing, I have bought homes to share with others, even to give away. So far the black folks I have invited to come and live in our community are reluctant to live here. Family members who are struggling economically elsewhere, whose hard earned income goes mainly to housing tell me things like “small towns are boring” or “there are not enough black people in Berea.” One of my sisters who lives in a predominately black city in the United States shared that while she likes coming to Berea to visit, she just does not want to live where “there are not enough black people.” Her comment led me to ponder “how many black folk constitute enough.” And I posed this question to her: ” If you have the opportunity to live in a predominately white community with a relatively small black population wherein the black and white folks who dwell there are anti-racist and caring to one another or you have the choice to live in a predominately black city where many black folks have internalized racism and are not caring towards self and others, where the small number of whites are by and large racist and/or afraid of black people, which would be the better place to live.” I raise the question with her and with other black folks of whether or not it is better to live in a community with five healthy black neighbors than fifty unhealthy black folks. This is one case where identity politics leads us astray, leads us to surrender optimal well-being for a false sense of safety that is ultimately based on white supremacist notions that we are safer and more at home with our “own kind.”

When black folks no longer suffer from internalized racism, we know that we can love blackness and embrace racial integration, that cultural allegiance need not blind us to the need to recognize and live beyond the artificial boundaries set by racist notions of race. As long as black people behave as though we can only be safe in segregated spaces, white supremacy is reinforced. Today many black people feel that white supremacy is so powerful that it can not be effectively challenged. Concurrently, they believe that white people who cling to racist beliefs (sometimes unconsciously) will never change. Since so many white people deny that race is one of the primary ways in which power, unearned privilege, and material well-being are bestowed on citizens, it is not surprising that black people do not feel “safe” among white people in many social settings. Self-segregation is obviously one way to avoid racist assault and exploitation. There is so little documentation of the myriad ways racist habits of being make all black people potential targets of discrimination, petty exploitation, and in extreme cases racist assault in everyday life. Whether or not black folks feel better if they are exploited or wounded by another black person rather than someone of another race remains unclear. However, it is evident that racialized post traumatic stress disorder often leads individual black people to experience tension, anxiety, and fear in the presence of white people, even those who are well meaning.

In her predominately black city, my younger sister G. has the positive experience of daily living among diverse classes of black folks yet she also has the negative experience of a culture of violence wherein criminal black folks prey on other black folks, often with impunity. Even though she knows from experience that she is not “safe” with someone solely because they are black (she and her loved ones have been threatened by black on black violence), she still feels more comfortable in segregated settings that are either all or predominately black. And she is not alone in this preference. Yet this way of thinking is the learned conservative pattern of identity politics which though useful during periods of extreme racist oppression as a basis of black solidarity and organized protest nowadays it actually undermines the struggle to end racism. Understanding this does not mean that as black people living within the political system of imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy we do not have to be critically vigilant in social encounters with white people who have not unlearned racism but it does mean that we must simultaneously learn how to extend trust not only to white people, but to any non-black group.

White people do not all think the same about race; there are indeed individual white people who are as dedicated to ending racism as any anti-racist black person. Stereotyping all white folks, seeing every white person as a potential threat is as dehumanizing as judging all black folks by standards defined by negative racist stereotypes.

Of course it remains the responsibility of white citizens of this nation to work at unlearning and challenging the patterns of racist thought and behavior that are still a norm in our society. However if whites and blacks alike do not remain mindful of the continual need to contest racist segregation and to work towards a racially integrated society free of white supremacy, then we will never live in beloved community. In the mid-sixties Lerone Bennett Jr. prophesied that there would come a time when citizens of this nation would have to decide between the American idea of democracy or fascism. He emphasized then that: “Real community is based on reciprocity of emotion and relation between individuals sharing a common vision of the possibilities and potentialities of man. The basic fact of race relations in America is that white people and Negroes do not belong to the same community.” Currently in our nation Americans of all colors feel bereft of a sense of “belonging” to either a place or a community. Yet most people still long for community and that yearning is the place of possibility, the place where we might begin as a nation to think and dream anew about the building of beloved community.

This makes Berea, Kentucky, one of the best places to be because we do have community here and many of us are committed to striving for racial justice and an end to racial segregation. After living for several years in town, I decided to find myself a place in the hills, not far from town, a place for dreaming, writing, and retreating. When I found the place, hilly land, lots of trees, a fancy cabin already built, a beautiful view of the lake that is our water source, I made ready to make my offer. But of course not before I inquired about the racial politics of the folks around me, the white folks living in trailers, who could possibly not welcome my presence. To begin with I met the “redneck” white hillbilly man who built this haven on the hill. At first meeting I had brought with me an older white woman friend, just in case E. was not friendly. We were a bit late coming up the hill to meet him but from the start it was acceptance at first sight. It seemed that the liberal white folks who had built the house were not certain that this hillbilly white man would want to work with a black woman so they had already let him know my color. He was not concerned.

I share the story of my meeting with E. because our working together, the friendship we have nurtured, the effort we have made to face our differences and resolve conflict, served as a catalyst for me to probe deeper notions of race and class, white supremacy, bonding across difference. It caused me to re-examine my past in relation to poor white hillbillies who were the first neighbors I knew growing up. We were taught back then that they hated black folks and we should stay away from them. No matter how nice or kind, we were taught that their appearance of kindness was really just a mask hiding their hateful intentions. No doubt there were many incidents of cruel racist assault of a black person by poor white people. And no doubt there were poor white people who lived in community with their black neighbors in the hills. The childhood socialization that taught us to simply fear and avoid contact with poor whites and not to use the same powers of discernment we might use with any group to decide whether they are a danger or not has left deep imprints. When they first heard that I had a cabin outside town, on a hill, my siblings first responded by interrogating me. They wanted to know if it was really safe for me to live among poor white folks in trailers. Understanding that I had expressed concerns about safety, about being a black woman alone in a place where most of the residents are poor and working-class white folks, I shared with my siblings that no one pondered whether I would feel safe in the predominately white neighborhood where I reside in town. The assumption being that privileged-class white folks are less likely to be racist than their poorer counterparts.

White supremacy is an active political system in our nation. It promotes and perpetuates racial discrimination and racist violence. Consequently, black people must remain aware and vigilant everyday in our lives whether confronting people of color who have internalized racism or in all white settings where it is likely that many of those present have not unlearned racism. We must be discerning. At the same time we must not be paranoid or make blanket assumptions based on stereotypes about every white person we encounter. The reverse holds true for white people and their encounters with black people.

Those of us who truly believe racism can end, that white supremacist thought and action can be challenged and changed, understand that there is an element of risk as we work to build community across difference. The effort to build community in a social context of racial inequality (much of which is class based) requires an ethic of relational reciprocity, one that is anti-domination. With reciprocity all things do not need to be equal in order for acceptance and mutuality to thrive. If equality is evoked as the only standard by which it is deemed acceptable for people to meet across boundaries and create community, then there is little hope. Fortunately, mutuality is a more constructive and positive foundation for the building of ties that allow for differences in status, position, power, and privilege whether determined by race, class, sexuality, religion, or nationality.